Opinion: Why I sold my big bike

Four years ago, I fulfilled a lifelong dream and bought my first ‘superbike’. At the time, it felt like the start of an exciting journey full of dreams about which big bike would come next. Well, I recently sold the 790 Duke and have no intentions of replacing it with another sporty motorcycle.

There are three reasons why I sold the KTM. The first was that I recently became the owner of a home loan, and with numbers that scary, any contribution helps. The second was that the bike simply wasn’t reliable enough, and that made what should have been a heart-wrenching decision a little easier—I really adored that violent little motorcycle. Mainly, though, I justwasn’t enjoying it as much as I dreamed I would, and that’s becuase Mumbai is a miserable city for sportbike ownership.

This isn’t a complaint about how hot the weather is or even how much traffic one has to deal with—those are all given in most big Indian cities. The issue is the quality of roads we have to live with. A majority of Mumbai’s roads are now either excessively bumpy or incredibly slippery, oftentimes both.

On smaller bikes, the bad roads are more of an irritant rather than a dealbreaker; it makes sense as they have suspension setups that were designed to deal with poor roads from the get-go. But the issue with grip is so bad that even smaller-capacity enthusiast bikes are affected—I once had an R15 snap sideways in third gear in the rain on the Santacruz-Chembur link road. Another example is the Ghatkopar-Mankhurd flyover. After years of construction inconvenience, the road surface was so slippery that bikes kept crashing on it. Eventually, someone lost their life, and the official solution wasn’t to improve the road but to simply ban the bikes from using it.

Sporty big bikes have immense power and incredible brakes, which is why they need firm suspension to deal with the forces involved. In Mumbai, that means you are constantly being bounced around and getting kicked out of the seat. And when you do want to enjoy the power, all you get in response is traction control intrusion—my 790 used to spin up at half throttle in fourth and fifth gears. The faster the bike, the worse it gets. I remember the  awesome BMW S 1000 RR I rode last year, trying to spin its rear tyre in sixth gear at double-digit speeds in the dry. Eventually, riding these bikes here seems like an unrewarding and pointless exercise.

Many states in India have a new obsession with building concrete roads. The reason cited is that they last better, but I counter that a well-made tarmac road lasts superbly as well; well-made being the key. The issue with concrete is that it is cast (often quite roughly) in slabs, and the seams between these slabs arrive every few feet. All of this creates an excessively jarring experience. It must be great to be in the concrete manufacturing business, but sadly, smooth, grippy tarmac has become a rare commodity, and I envy those lucky enough to have some where they live.

I will always love fast and sporty bikes, and I’m glad I got to experience owning one. But for that to ever happen again, I’ll have to live somewhere with good enough roads around me. Until then, there are always capable ADVs and soul-stirring retro bikes to lust after.

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